


going backwards

by castlestr33t



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Cheating, F/M, Flashbacks, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Infidelity, M/M, Minor Character Death, Past Relationship(s), Sex, Time Skips, Violence, anyways this has been left on my laptop since february so its mostly rubbish but have fun gals x, idk what else to tag so...........roam free, ive got a thing for cheating fics apparently, nick punches louis once and thats the violence, other than that were good
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2019-02-16 18:58:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13060146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castlestr33t/pseuds/castlestr33t
Summary: harry and louis broke up, six years later they reunite when louis is dating nick. morally grey things occur. see ya





	going backwards

** 2018 **

Nick and Louis met at Zayn’s wedding. Nick had trailed a hand over Louis’ back whilst Louis was in the middle of telling a joke to a large group of people on the edge of the dancefloor. With a jerk of his head, Louis had clocked Nick’s tall figure, his pink hair falling over his forehead and grin cheeky as his eyes raked over Louis’ body before pulling himself through the throngs of the crowd. Louis had blushed and faltered slightly before he caught himself and dove right back into the punchline again, grinning happily when his audience responded with delighted laughter.

It wasn’t until later when Louis was perched at the bar, ignoring an older man gripping onto his shoulder and begging for attention from the bartender. Nick had slid up close to Louis’ side and cleared his throat, gaining attention from both Louis and the ignorant man hanging off of him. Louis doesn’t remember much else other than how the lights had filtered over Nick’s cheekbones, painting him as an angel in Louis’ tipsy mind.

Until he opened his mouth.

“Mate. Do you wanna fuck off away from my boy now?”

An angel surely doesn’t have a northern tinge, right? Or curse.

Louis blushed and let his breath pour out of him in a sigh of relief when the man stepped back, his mind barely catching onto the mumbled apologies coming from the man’s mouth. Once he had moved away to harass a different lone twink, Louis turned to Nick with an arched eyebrow.

“Your boy, huh?” he asked, suppressing a smirk at Nick’s forwardness.

Nick had laughed, raking his fingers through his tousled hair and slid down onto the stool next to Louis, retracting his hand from Louis’ thigh. Louis pursed his lips and tried not to feel colder without the pressure on his body.

“I mean… it would be nice.” Nick shrugged, flagging down the bartender and ordering them both a shot of tequila each.

Louis snorted, curling his fingers around the shot glass and knocking it back without hesitance. He winced at the strong taste, his cheeks colouring when he noticed the amused look Nick was giving him.

“Who said I’m nice?” Louis countered, his eyes tracking the movement of Nick’s throat as he’d knocked back the shot.

Nick had laughed, the loud sound making Louis’ lips curl up into a slow smirk. He remembers standing up and grabbing Nick by the front of his shirt, the alcohol clogging up his mind and his ability to tone down his bad decisions. The way Nick’s eyes had widened urged him on, his heart beating fast in his chest.

“You’re not nice?”

Louis shook his head. “No. I’m not.”

Dragging Nick to the empty coatroom was easy, unbuttoning his jeans was easy, taking him into his mouth was easy, letting Nick play with his nipples until he came in his pants was easy. Despite Nick’s body against his. Nick’s mouth pressed against his neck, Nick’s hands gripping onto his hips and Nick’s words whispered into his ear, it wasn’t as easy to drag his brain away from the memories of the last wedding he’d gone to.

//

** 2013 **

“This is meant to be a special occasion, you know, babe?” Louis murmurs just loud enough for his boyfriend to hear as he bends down to tie his shoes. Today was the day that Gemma, Harry’s sister, would be marrying the love of her life and Harry was taking his sweet ass time, as usual.

Really, they’ve been together for the past three years when Louis had stumbled into him during a drama rehearsal at school and knocked juice all over Harry’s white outfit. (He was supposedly a snowflake). So, logically, Louis should be used to Harry’s long limbs slowing him down while he, himself buzzes around the flat nervously, trying to be ready on time. But, it still annoys him. Just a little bit.

Heat presses up against him from behind and he rolls his eyes fondly as he straightens up, drops of annoyance melting away at the cheeky touch. He turns around into Harry’s embrace. His hands slide over Harry’s broad chest, his eyebrows sliding together to create a gentle crease in his expression.

“No tie?” he asks quietly, his fingers playing with the open collar of Harry’s navy blue shirt. _Like your eyes when you’re sleepy, Lou_ , he had said when Louis had asked him earlier. “It’s your sister’s wedding, Haz…”

Harry shakes his head as he fits his hands over Louis’ hips, pulling their bodies closer together.

“No,” he murmurs, ducking his head to press his lips to the junction of Louis’ collarbone. His teeth appear to mark a fresh new bruise into the tanned flesh of his lover’s skin before Louis’ hand comes up to push him away with a quiet, breathless giggle.

“I… I would’ve done your tie for you, you know. I’m a very good tie-erer?” Louis trailed off, wincing at his lack of articulacy. He clears his throat, shutting his mouth as a wave of embarrassment passed over him. Is there anything he wouldn’t do for Harry at this point, though?

Harry laughs, covering Louis’ hands with his own, curling his fingers around Louis’ own and Louis gets lost momentarily in the protective, intimate gesture.

“Yeah, but you’d do anything for me,” Harry echoes Louis’ own thoughts with a teasing smile. Harry fits his lips over Louis’ knuckles, smiling wide enough against Louis’ hands for dimples to curve into his pale cheeks.

Louis nods, dumbfounded.

“Anything,” he mumbles to himself under his breath before Harry tugged him into his side and took Louis outside to get into the taxi, his lips pressing a soft kiss to Louis’ forehead as he locks the door behind them. Louis is floating.

When they had arrived at the after party, Harry pulled Louis alongside him, a possessive arm curled around his small waist and his hand pressing up against Louis’ hip. Louis felt flushed, admiring the light pink shades decorating the walls, accented by soft layers of white. The expensive chandelier hanging from the ceiling is beautiful and Louis can’t stop himself from gazing up at it in awe.

Harry ducks his face in close to loudly suck on Louis’ exposed neck, making the boy curl over and giggle madly into Harry’s shoulder. He ignores the pointed glares he can feel on his back.

“Stop!” He laughed, shoving at Harry’s shoulders.

Smirking dirtily, Harry pulled Louis tighter against him as he pulled Louis up from his chair and led him over to a small group of people chatting on the edges of the dancefloor: two men and a woman. Even from afar, Louis could tell that they were beautiful. Louis stumbled slightly, blushing as he tugged hard on Harry’s hand.

Harry rolled his eyes fondly. “They’re my friends!”

As suspected, Harry had very attractive friends. The two men were polar opposites: one tall and dark skinned with a bright strip of blue going through his grey fringe (stylish grey, not grey with age, though which makes Louis twitch in amusement because of course Harry befriends hipster wannabes), whilst the other is blond and adorned with sharp angles, his cheekbones high and sculpted. Stood in between the pair is a woman with long, black hair that accents her red lipstick and pale skin. He feels out of place suddenly.

Even with Harry’s possessive arm wrapped around him, it only seems to get worse.

“You said we wouldn’t have to talk to strangers!” Louis whined against Harry’s neck but let himself be led away with little resistance.

“You can’t stop them from being strangers unless you meet them!” He laughed at Louis’ whining and introduced himself to the group with a wide grin. The two men grin madly at Harry’s presence, shaking his hang with vigour while the woman waits her turn to pull Harry into a tight hug and patting his cheek affectionately. He thinks they’re called Dean, Jeremy and Kate if Harry’s loud greetings are anything to go by.

Louis watches the encounter with a shy, quiet gaze. His smile quickly falls from his face when he hears Harry’s next words.

“Guys. This is my Lou. He’s my best friend and-”

Louis’ face falls. “Best friend?” Louis cuts Harry off, stepping out from Harry’s embrace. He scoffs and puts his champagne glass down on nearby passing tray.

“Lou?” Harry asks quietly, reaching out for his hand. His eyes are quiet and intense, searching Louis’ eyes for answers that Louis won’t give him.

Gently slapping Harry’s hand away from him, Louis smiles tightly at his date and turns away, facing the old couple who are staring at the two of them with wide, surprised gazes.

“Well. I didn’t know it was the norm to fuck your best friend – exclusively! - for five years straight. Guess I must have missed the memo. Excuse me.”

Louis doesn’t take the liberty of checking Harry’s reaction, too pissed off to even care about how much he’d annoyed his _friend_. He weaves his way through the crowd, probably bumping into people rudely on his way to the coatroom which he knew would be empty with the party in full swing. He just needs some time to breathe.

Louis slams the door behind him and sinks down to the floor, gulping in harsh, frustrated breaths. He slams his fist back against the door in frustration, his mind racing over the encounter.

Harry had called him a _friend_. They’d been together for five years and Harry had been too embarrassed or ashamed about his presence by his side to even bother introducing him properly to people that Harry had known all of his life. _Pissed off_ doesn’t even cover it.

He fiddles with his tie, growling under his breath before he rips it off and throws it across the room to pool at the corner of the room. Peering up, he takes in the room and smiles sadly to himself. The walls are decorated with abstract art paintings, purple fairy lights wrapped around the frames and one round table set up in the corner of the room. It looks out of place but it’s covered with a red velvet sheet and Louis could picture himself painting in here.

Louis is pulled out of his small daydream when he hears the loud knocking on the door. He jumps, cursing loudly before he scowls when he hears the familiar voice pour through the barrier between Louis and the after party.

“Louis. Open the door. Baby, please.”

Louis rolls his eyes and crosses his arms across his chest. He shakes his head to himself, running his fingers through his hair and neglecting to answer his boyfriend with a response.

A beat passes before Harry speaks up again. “Open the damn door, Louis. Or I will just leave right now and leave you here. Don’t think I won’t because I will.” Harry threatens, jiggling the knob again.

With a resigned sigh, Louis gets off the floor and yanks the door open. He opens his mouth to say something before he’s pushed into the room, Harry’s hand covering Louis’ mouth. He slams the door behind him with his foot and turns Louis around slowly to push Louis against the door. Louis faintly registers the sound of the lock clicking into place behind him.

Frustrated, Louis pushes Harry’s hand off his mouth and goes to shove Harry’s chest but his boyfriend is quick taking Louis’ wrists into his hands and holding them against the door by Louis’ hips.

“You embarrassed me.” Harry says slowly, quietly, enunciating each word with purpose as if Louis is a toddler that needs to be taught simple facts. His green eyes watching Louis with an intensity that makes Louis’ body heat up, his breath coming out shakily.

“I… I don’t care.” Louis mumbles defiantly. “You called me your _friend_ Harry! Is that all I am to you? Some _pal_ that you live with, eat with, fuck, sleep next to and promise the future to?! Because, fuck you! If you were embarrassed or ashamed of me, you shouldn’t have asked me to come with you in the first place!”

Harry watches him passively, curling his free hand around Louis’ chin and tilts his face up so that their mouths are mere inches apart. If it were colder in here, Louis would probably be able to see the ghost of his shuddery breath in the air.

“I wasn’t ashamed of you. But I fucking am right now. Get on your knees.”

Louis’ eyes widen, trying to ignore how aroused he is and clinging onto his annoyance at his boyfriend. It’s not fair how sexy he is when he’s being an arsehole.

“F-fuck you.”

“Glad you’re catching up. Knees.” Harry whispers, pressing both of his palms to the wooden door on either side of Louis’ head, their hips pressing together.

Louis bites back a whimper. “Harry…”

Harry laughs bitterly, shaking his head at Louis. “You are my best friend. I’m in love with my best friend. ‘Boyfriend’ is just… boyfriends disappear all the time, you know? But we…. We’re forever, aren’t we?”

Louis nods numbly, licking his dry lips. He tries to wiggle his hips underneath Harry’s grip but Harry presses him harder into the door so that Louis is unable to move at all.

“What… what are we gonna do?” He whispers, his eyes locked on the tight hinge of Harry’s jaw.

“You’re gonna make it up to me, Louis, that’s what.”

Louis breaths out shakily again, enough to arise concern from his boyfriend for Harry to gently touch his face.

“You know your safe word if you need it, Louis. If this is too much for you, we can go home and talk about it. But I’d really like to fuck your mouth then go back out there and congratulate my sister on getting married. How about that?” Harry whispers slowly.

Louis drops to his knees in an instant, delighting in the loud curse that falls from Harry’s mouth. Louis wastes no time in unbuckling Harry’s belt and yanking both his slacks and his boxers down in one swift tug. Harry’s cock exposed in the cool air makes his mouth water, the skin a soft pink and veins running down the shaft.

Without warning, Louis takes Harry into his mouth and sucks hard. He registers the slam of hand on wood as Harry curses loudly under his breath and hits the door behind Louis with his palm, leaning on it for leverage.

Louis bobs his head for a minute, taking his time to get Harry’s cock wet using only his tongue before he pulls off and looks up at Harry, a string of saliva connecting his bottom lip to the tip of Harry’s cock.

“Thought you wanted to be in charge, daddy?” He purrs quietly, looking up at Harry from under his long eyelashes.

Harry moans and takes Louis’ hair in his hands before sliding his cock back into Louis’ mouth smoothly. Luckily, Louis is expecting it and manages to control his gag reflex, gripping onto the back of Harry’s thighs with his hands to pull him in deeper. Harry shudders above him.

They stay in that position for a long seven minutes, Harry relentlessly fucking Louis’ mouth with his hands wound tight in Louis’ hair and his dark green eyes watching Louis with an intensity that makes Louis want to touch himself, but he keeps his hands firmly locked on the firmness of Harry’s thighs.

The sudden hot spurt of Harry’s cum in Louis’ mouth slides down his throat and makes him whimper pathetically around the mouthful of cock, his hands squeezing Harry’s thighs tightly as he lets Harry slow down the thrusts and come down from the orgasmic high.

Harry tucks himself away silently, helping Louis onto his feet with his hands in Louis’. Louis stares at him through hooded eyes, his breath coming out in slow pants. Dragging his thumb across Louis’ bottom lip, Harry collects the remains of the mess he’s made to his boyfriend and sucks it into his mouth, his eyes locked on Louis’ and refusing to look away.

Louis whimpers out a plea but Harry ignores him.

After tucking his shirt back into his slacks, Harry pats Louis’ cheek lightly and goes for the door knob behind Louis’ back.

“When you’re less of a state, come back to the party and I’ll introduce you to more people. I trust you can behave yourself?”

Louis nods in response to Harry’s arched eyebrow and Harry smiles triumphantly, pecking Louis’ mouth before he ducks out of the room with a quiet, “good boy”.

Catching his reflection in the mirror that hangs from the wall on his left, Louis catalogues how much of a mess he actually is. He laughs hollowly at his mussed up hair, his bright pink lips, his coloured cheeks and the bulge in the front of his pants.

“Yeah. Love you too.” He whispers to the room.

//

** 2018 **

Nick and Louis have been fucking around, fucking together and fucking everywhere for a four months and a half before Louis brings up the question he’s never had to ask out loud to a man he’s been interested in before.

“Why haven’t you told your mother about me?” Louis asks quietly into the air, frowning despite the soft lips pressing into the skin of his thighs.

Nick pauses, lifting his head to look up at Louis in surprise.

“My mother?”

Nick’s lips are bruised and full from Louis’ own mouth, his quiff falling down over his forehead and his thumbs are drawing patterns into the shape of Louis’ ankles subconsciously. Louis’ heart tugs slightly in his chest at the sight. He clears his throat to revert the attention back to himself again.

“Yes. Your mother, Nicholas. I believe her name is Eileen, you like to buy her candles when you see a new scent in the shops and she pushed your fat head out of her-“

Louis has to bite back a grin when Nick’s large hand covers Louis’ mouth with a fond roll of his eyes. After a few seconds, Nick lets his hand fall from Louis’ mouth, Nick pulls himself up onto his knees as he situates himself in between Louis’ spread thighs. Louis bites his lip, holding himself up on his elbows as he stares Nick down with a quirked eyebrows, silently refusing to be the first one to talk.

“My… I don’t really talk about the twinks I take to bed, Lou,” Nick tries to joke, bending down to press a kiss to Louis’ exposed hip. Louis stops him with a frown, pushing his face away with just enough force to be serious but not enough for Nick to think that he’s genuinely upset at Nick calling him a twink.

Humming quietly, Louis takes Nick’s jaw into his palm and shifts so that he’s sitting upright, their chests inches apart. It’s odd, Nick being lower and Louis being slightly taller than the quiff on his lover’s head but Louis thinks he likes it. Just a little.

Catching the suddenly soft glint of affection in Nick’s eyes, Louis is tempted to just kiss him and let the subject drop but he stops himself.

“What… if… I was more than a twink that takes up residence in your bed to you? What if I was a boyfriend… that you shared a bed with regularly?” Louis whispers quietly, slowly brushing Nick’s hair out of his face.

A slow smile builds up to stretch across Nick’s face.

“You wanna be my _boyfriend_ , Louis Tomlinson! You wanna live with me!” He gasps with delight, his eyes lighting up much too bright to not be mocking.

Groaning, Louis shoves at Nick’s shoulder but Nick catches his wrist and pulls him quickly into his lap. Louis giggles loudly at the sudden strength and holds onto Nick’s shoulders tightly, resisting the urge to press their lips together with the sudden proximity of their mouths.

“Say it,” Nick whispers. “And I’ll ring my mum right now.”

Louis snorts, taking his time to roll his eyes and gaze over Nick’s shoulder at the overfilling drawer in his chest of drawers that is pressed up against the far wall. Louis knows that within that drawer is his underwear, his clothes, his favourite hoodie, his copy of _The Fault in Our Stars_ (because, fuck you, that shit is sad, that’s why) and his purple beanie.

Blinking quickly, Louis redirects his gaze to the patient look on Nick’s face and he sighs loudly, as if it’s a chore to even mutter the words.

“I want you to be my boyfriend. I want us to live together.”

Nick raises his eyebrows, smiling sweetly. “… and?”

Louis frowns, crossing his arms across his chest in annoyance. “I… I’m not calling you daddy, if that’s what you’re hinting at. It’s not my thing, Nick!” (That’s a lie.)

Nick barks out a laugh and Louis melts, his arms unfolding to curl up against Nick’s chest. His palm fits over Nick’s heart and tries to ignore how rapid Nick’s heart is beating underneath his layers.

“Manners cost nothing, Tomlinson. Jesus, who raised you?” Nick teases.

Louis blushes, pouting for a long moment before he opens his mouth to say, “please.”

What Louis wasn’t expecting was for Nick to groan out a long “finally!” before pushing him down onto his back and covering Louis’ petite body with his own, attaching their lips together with a  passion that leaves Louis light and squirmy underneath Nick’s lanky body.

Nick kisses him like he’s precious, like he’s been waiting his whole life for Louis to make up his damn mind, like he’s the One and Louis feels it, he feels perfect with Nick’s strong hands on his body and his soft lips slowly undoing all the knots and nerves inside of him.

//

** 2021 **

Hanging off of Nick’s body, Louis giggles loudly into his boyfriend’s neck as he peers up at Nick’s face adoringly from under his eyelashes. Despite the fact that he has a group of people surrounding them, hungry and eager to soak up every ounce of humour and sarcasm and witty comments that his boyfriend has to offer, Nick’s hand is heavy and possessive on the small of Louis’ back, the palm curving around to grip onto Louis’ hip. Louis feels light and happy, although admittedly, the several cocktails he’s had probably has something to do with that.

As Nick opens his mouth to do an impression of his boss down at the radio station, Louis pecks his neck and excuses himself to go to the bathroom. Nick smiles softly, mid-sentence and tugs Louis close into his body before Louis can escape.

He presses their lips together in a hard, domineering kiss before he releases Louis with a swat of his bum and a mumbled, “come back to me”.

Louis blushes, trying not to notice the chorus of cat calls and loud comments floating around them as he nods and pushes away from Nick with a playful glint in his eyes. While Louis moves to the toilets, Nick keeps his gaze on Louis as he continues talking to his group of admirers until Louis mouths a clear ‘always’ from across the room. Nick finally grins and drops his gaze, leaving Louis light and giddy as he stumbles into the men’s toilets.

The toilets is empty when he stumbles through the door, save for a closed cubicle door. Louis pisses quickly and washes his hands before he takes in his appearance in the mirror on the wall. His cheeks are flushed from the drinks buzzing in his system, his lips bitten bright red and his hair mussed up from the heavy make out session he had with Nick in the back of the cab on the way here. He looks… happy.

Suddenly frowning, he leans forward to inspect the laugh lines around his eyes and sighs loudly. No amount of happiness is going to erase genetic tendencies to look much older than he actually is, then.

“Louis?”

Louis freezes, his breath hitching in his throat at the mention of his name. But it isn’t his name that he’s obsessing over – it’s the voice that carries it. Slowly turning around, Louis’ eyes widen at the sight of his ex-boyfriend stood in front of him.

Louis hasn’t seen Harry for what feels like forever, and honestly, six years is forever. The man he used to love stands in front of him, his green eyes wild with confusion, his lips parted in surprise and his shirt unbuttoned low to showcase a map of tattoos that Louis has never seen before. He looks awful, changed and miles away from the man he knew years ago. His hair is shorter, his lips more chapped and bruises littering his knuckles. But, his eyes. Those eyes that Louis stared at, for what felt like a lifetime, are still the same intense green that won’t leave Louis alone.

“No.” Louis declares loudly, moving to leave the toilets and return to his boyfriend – his boyfriend who is waiting outside for him!

But Harry grabs onto Louis’ wrist and pulls Louis into a cubicle when he hears the creak of the door, resting his back against the cubicle door. Louis curses himself inwardly for being so pliant and easily manipulated just by the tiniest touch.

There’s an age of silence, neither one of them saying anything, just two pairs of eyes assessing the other for changes that have occurred or similarities that scream ‘home’. Hoping there isn’t too many drastic changes, and that their partner is still there.

“You… you look beautiful, Lou,” Harry’s voice cracks when he mutters out the pet name, his eyes wide as he reaches out for Louis’ body. Louis drifts towards him without a word, his heart beating fast in his chest.

“You d-don’t get to say that anymore, Harry,” Louis forces the words out, his eyes locked on Harry’s face.

Harry frowns confusedly as if he’s no idea what Louis is talking about. Louis’ heart sinks as realisation sinks in. Of course, Harry is smashed and that’s why his hands are pulling at Louis’ hips and trying to find purchase on any sliver of exposed skin he can find.

Guiltily, and selfishly, Louis presses himself against Harry’s body, because, fuck. He’s missed the shape of Harry’s hands, the hard surface of Harry’s chest and the curve of his lips. But when he looks at his ex-boyfriend’s hair, he blushes when he notices that this isn’t the bright colour that he’s grown accustomed to waking up next to every day.

Nick.

“You need to stop this, Harry…” Louis whispers quietly into the crook of Harry’s neck, trying to push the wandering hands away from his hips. The best he does is entwining their fingers together. Idiot.

Harry shakes his head, detangling their fingers and grabbing the back of Louis’ neck, pulling them close. Louis swiftly avoids meeting his lips, instead pressing their foreheads together. Harry’s skin is warm and soft under his.

“You’re beautiful,” Harry slurs out, his hand tightening on Louis’ neck but he doesn’t try to connect their lips again. “Wish you were mine.”

Louis laughs bitterly, smiling tightly and he nods stiffly. “You had me. Remember? What, I didn’t look that good when we were together, huh?”

Harry shakes his head rapidly, dropping to his knees and squeezing Louis’ hands in his. “No! You look- you’re beautiful all times, all of the times, every time, and every-“

Louis claps a hand over Harry’s mouth to stop his ex-boyfriend from talking.  “Get off your damn knees.”

Thankfully, Harry can’t say anything due to the firm grasp Louis has over his mouth because they both know damn well that Harry would make a quick remark about him being on his knees. Louis also knows that he isn’t in any right state of mind but to do anything but laugh at Harry’s stupid comments. He definitely shouldn’t have done shots with his boyfriend before being followed to the bathroom by his ex-boyfriend.

 “You look like shit. Alcoholism really doesn’t do you any favours, huh?” His words cut deep into Harry, who flinches at the accusation, but there isn’t any effort to fight back against it. They both know Louis is right.

Louis wishes he wasn’t.

There’s a long beat as Harry shakily stands up on his own two feet and leans heavily against the door, his hooded eyes watching Louis carefully.

“You… you didn’t miss me?” He asks quietly.

Louis laughs, rolling his eyes and steps away from Harry. He looks at Harry pointedly and Harry sighs loudly, not making any move to step back into Louis’ personal space again.

“I don’t…. I don’t want to miss you. You broke up with me.” Louis snaps loudly.

Harry swallows hard, watching Louis carefully.

“You’re with someone.” It’s not a question, just a fact but the tired look in Harry’s eyes make it sound like an accusation.

Crossing his arms over his small chest, Louis nods. “Yes. I am. Can I go now?”

Harry opens his mouth, his hands slightly trembling by his sides as he stares at Louis with anguish. He hates this, he hates how Harry can make him feel like such an asshole with one look, he hates how much his arms are screaming at him to just take Harry into his embrace and hold him. He hates Harry.

“Let’s be friends.”

It’s the very last thing he expected to come from Harry’s mouth and Louis has to hold back his disbelieving laughter.

“Friends?” He scoffs.

Harry nods seriously, looking down at his feet for a long beat of silence before he looks back up at Louis.

“I just… I need a friend, Louis. You’ve always been my friend, you were my best friend and I miss you and… please.” Harry pleads quietly, pressing his hand into Louis’ and refusing to take his eyes off of Louis.

Louis’ heart aches. Fuck you, Harry Styles.

“If I give you my number to text – as friends! – will you let me out of this toilet so I can go and get drunk with my boyfriend?”

Sadness flashes over Harry’s face at the mention of Louis’ boyfriend but he nods. Louis sighs and holds his hand out for Harry’s phone, quickly typing his digits into the phone before handing it back to Harry.

They stare at each other for a long second before Harry smiles sadly. “You look really good, Lou.”

Breathing out shakily, Louis nods tightly and moves past Harry to leave the toilet without another word. He weaves his way back through the crowd and finds Nick’s side once more, his nerves settling when Nick’s calm eyes find his. Their lips meet as Louis opens his mouth to apologise for taking so long and Louis makes a soft, surprised sound at the back of his throat in response to the kiss before relaxing into the intimate touch.

“You took so long, baby. You weren’t planning on leaving me with a sexier man, if such a thing even exists?” Nick teases, cupping Louis’ face with his hand. Louis laughs breathlessly and shakes his head.

“Never.”

Louis pretends to not feel the pair of emerald eyes locked on him for the rest of the night, and it’s more than a relief when he and Nick finally leave. Distracting himself with the feel of Nick’s mouth on his and the pressure of Nick’s hands on his thighs leaves Louis dizzy

-

Later when Nick is cradling Louis in his lap in their soft, warm bed, Nick asks Louis a question he really wishes he could ignore.

“Who was that guy?”

Louis quickly masks his guilt with a soft smile, dragging his hair through Nick’s hair in the way that he knows relaxes Nick no matter the circumstances. “What guy, love?”

“There was a guy that followed after you to the toilets and then when you came back, you left at the same time. So, I… He looked like… like he knew you or something? I dunno.” Nick shrugs, and if Nick were slightly more sober, Louis would probably worry about the tinge of accusation to his tone. But Nick is drunk so Louis lets his paranoia slip.

Louis swallows hard and licks his dry lips, dragging his eyes up to look into Nick’s eyes with a shy smile. “Oh, Harry?” It hurts to say his name. “Just a guy from my art class. I did a few during the summer before I found out I was awful. He wanted to ask me if I was going to go back in the new term because he hadn’t seen me for ages. But I probably won’t.”

The lie falls from his mouth easier than it should.

Nick laughs, pressing a wet kiss to Louis’ cheek, his hands massaging Louis’ hips through his dark jeans. “I bet you were the best-est!” He mumbles drunkenly and Louis smiles sadly, stroking Nick’s hair soothingly. His heart aches when Nick purrs slightly underneath the touch, his lips parting on an exhale. Harry used to do that.

Getting Nick out his tight jeans is difficult but he does his best despite a giggling Nick trying to drag Louis down for a kiss. Finally, he gets them both out of their clothes, leaving underwear on because he doesn’t need to give a horny, drunk Nick Grimshaw any ideas, before he slides into Nick’s waiting embrace.

It’s harder to find sleep and comfort in Nick’s arms when all he has on his mind is Harry than he would’ve liked.

Fuck Harry Styles.

//

** 2021 **

It’s been four months of Louis and Harry being friends. According to Harry, being friends means that Harry gets blackout drunk in the guise of grieving and Louis gets out of bed at odd hours of the morning to go and pick him up so he stops being someone else’s problem.

Louis is cursing at himself under his breath for the third time that week as he crawls out of bed at 1:39am and pulls on a heavy hoodie, slips his feet into his worn vans and grabs his phone and car keys. He hesitates but quickly drops a kiss to Nick’s cheek before he leaves the flat. Nick shifts in his sleep but doesn’t wake up.

Louis and Nick have been living together for a solid year now, which should mean a little more to him than it does right now, he thinks to himself as he leaves the house. He does love Nick, though, at least he thinks he does but whatever feelings he has still isn’t stopping himself from leaving his boyfriend in the middle of the night. He doesn’t leave a note behind because he knows that Nick understands, even though Louis has never uttered a word about why he goes disappearing at odd hours of the morning. Nick will probably punish him for it later.

His eyes hurt from the soft glare of his phone as he climbs into the car and starts up the engine. He throws his phone onto the passenger seat and pulls out of their driveway, taking the familiar twists and turns of the road with surprising ease considering how tired he is. But he’s been down this route a million times before, Louis could probably do it from beyond the grave.

The streetlamps are dull and sombre when he parks his car against the side of the road and clambers out. Sure enough his ex is slumped outside of his favourite pub with his head hanging in between his knees and his fingers buried in his curls, with a tall man stood next to him. The man is eyeing Harry warily as if he’s worried that Harry is going to throw up on his shoes.

He doesn’t need to worry, Harry isn’t a messy drunk; not like that.

“How long has he been out here?” Louis asks quietly as he approaches the two men, a sad smile painted on his thin lips.

The stranger’s eyes light up in relief. Dan, the owner, must’ve told him to wait with Harry until Louis got there.

“Just ten minutes or so… Dan had to get him out, he was trying to start fights with one of the other regulars and well. Harry doesn’t tip as well,” the man fills Louis in Louis crouches down in front of Harry and tilts Harry’s chin up carefully to assess the man’s handsome face. He looks rough, eyes vacant but still beautiful, his bottom lip cut up slightly and his forehead covered with a light sheen of sweat. Harry smiles at Louis and it’s distant but the large hand he puts on Louis’ cheek makes Louis think that, maybe, he isn’t as bad as he could be.

Louis’ beautiful mess to clean up, again.

Louis is about to look to the stranger again and ask him for help to get Harry into his car but he’s gone and it’s just him, crouched on the ground in front of Harry. Of course.

Smiling sadly to himself, Louis pulls Harry’s hand away and tries not to roll his eyes fondly at the long whine Harry lets out in response. Louis stands up and uses all the strength he has, bending his knees – the lot, to pull Harry up. Harry staggers slightly and the pair nearly go down in an undignified pile before Louis catches himself. He loops Harry’s arm around his shoulder and opens the back door of the car, shoving Harry into the back and hoping to God that he doesn’t do anything stupid whilst he’s driving.

Harry is good. Louis can hear him breathing like a normal human being, so that’s even better and soon enough, he’s parking outside of Harry’s house. His far too big house that Harry had insisted he buy with the inheritance money that his father had given him.

Louis opens the back door and pats at Harry’s thigh, grabbing his hand and pulling Harry out of the car. Harry seems more alert now, his eyes more focused and his skin less flushed than before.

“Lou.” Harry whispers, blinking slowly. “You picked me up.”

Louis laughs, devoid of humour. “Don’t I always, Haz?”

Harry grins brilliantly at him and Louis only then notices that his shirt is ripped over the chest, his hair sticking up at the back of his head. Louis rolls his eyes and shuffles Harry to the front door, stopping Harry from fumbling with his keys by plucking them out of his hands and unlocking the door himself.

His beautiful mess, indeed.

“In, Haz,” Louis orders softly. “C’mon, no stairs tonight,” he says quietly when Harry tries to head for the stairs.

“My bed is upstairs,” Harry frowns in confusion.

“You have a couch down here, don’t you?” Louis asks, leading Harry into the living room and gently nudging him down onto the couch, covering him with a discarded blanket from the abandoned armchair. No one has sat in that chair since his father.

Leaning down to shove a soft cushion underneath Harry’s head, Louis stops with his fingers brushing Harry’s hair as Harry’s long fingers wrapped around his wrist. The angle is odd, so Louis has to sink down to his knees next to Harry’s head with a shaky smile

“Thank you.” Harry whispers.

“T-thank you? For…what?” Louis asks shakily. Harry has never thanked him before.

Harry smiles, says nothing and kisses Louis. His lips are soft and warm and inviting and Harry tastes and feels and smells like _home_. Louis responds to the kiss at first before his brain kicks in and he pulls away with a shaky gasp, both hands planted on Harry’s broad chest as if that will magically form a barrier between the two.

“H-Harry, no,” Louis whispers. “I’ve… Nick…”

Harry snorts and nods, turning onto his back to stare up at the ceiling for a few seconds before his emerald green eyes snap back to meet Louis’. “Yeah. I know. Nick.” His tone is clipped and Louis flushes, looking down at his hands that are cradled together in his lap. When Harry speaks again, his tone is softer. “Just… stay with me until morning, please? You never stay.”

Louis doesn’t mention that for the whole time they continued having sex after the break up – before Nick had come into the picture – Harry had never stayed either. He stares at Harry painfully, because all he wants is to crawl into Harry’s familiar strong arms and stay there forever.

Finally, Louis shakes his head, stands up and takes a sobering step back away from Harry. “I- I’ve got to go. Make sure you drink… water when you wake up, okay?”

Before Harry can protest or move off the couch to stop him, Louis is fleeing out the door and clambering into his car, his hands shaking with the effort of sliding his keys into the ignition. Louis allows himself a long five minutes of sitting in the car, his eyes closed with his head tilted back against the headrest before he shakes his head incredulously at himself and starts the engine, driving home.

Nick has gone out for his work shift at the radio station when Louis finally gets back home. He passes the fridge and quickly checks the note that Nick has pinned to the bathroom mirror that reads “ _Be naked when I get home. Nick xx”_ when Louis goes in to wash his tired face, before he climbs back into bed and drops off into sleep quickly.

Louis doesn’t know how he got there.

//

He’s not sure when it happened, where he’d once brushed off Nick’s questions about why he spent so much time out of the house (“hanging around with some art people, babe, I know you’re not arsed about this sort of thing”) he now totally ignored Nick’s questions altogether. He knew these meet ups between him and Harry weren’t casual events anymore. No, they were secret and it made Louis feel dirty and invigorated at the same time.

When Louis wasn’t dragging Harry’s arse home out of pubs, their encounters were even fun. They would meet up in a coffee shop at first, exchanging stories that the other had missed out on during the past few years before it progressed to doing errands together when needed (which led to them spending the entire day together, because, why not) but soon enough, Louis would find himself on Harry’s doorstep, smiling brightly when Harry welcomes him into his home and his arms. It helps that Harry stopped drinking for Louis, a condition of their newfound friendship.

Not that Harry hadn’t tried to make it sexual, or intimate at the very least. Lingering touches to his wrist on strolls through the park, a possessive grip on his hip when Harry guides Louis through the crowd in the pub so they can get to the bar, a soft brush of his lips across Louis’ cheekbones when Louis announces that he should leave or _innocently_ rubbing himself up against Louis’ back when they end up falling asleep on the sofa in the middle of a movie and spend the day entwined in each other’s arms, Harry’s arms secured tightly around Louis’ waist.

But Louis had brushed him off every time, had pulled his hand away from Harry’s, had shoved him playfully away when he got too close and had firmly but gently reminded Harry that he was with someone else. Someone else that was definitely not Harry.

Until he stopped brushing him off. Until he started to look forward to movie days purely because he knew he’d end up in Harry’s arms with his thigh slotted between Harry’s and his lips poised above his collarbones. Until he stopped knocking Harry’s hand away and instead returned the touch, leading Harry through the crowded club to find somewhere quiet to talk.

So, who is to blame when it escalates further?

Louis is curled on Harry’s lap, who had insisted that Louis stay very close to him “for body warmth, it’s science” while Home Alone plays on the telly. It’s June, Louis had reminded Harry with a smug smirk before bursting into giggles when Harry narrowed his eyes and poked him in the sides multiple times.

He stretches in Harry’s lap, the heat from the fireplace and Harry’s hand on his waist making him feel the most comfortable he’s felt in ages. As he moves, the fabric of his tee shirt moves upwards and exposes his stomach. Before he can move to tug his shirt back down to cover himself up, Harry’s hand touches Louis’ exposed skin, his eyebrows knitted together in concentration.

Louis rolls his eyes, trying to push Harry’s hand away. “Haz, I’m cold-“ he protests with a whine.

“What are these?” Harry asks carefully, the tightness in his voice dropping the playful atmosphere instantly.

Louis drops his gaze to where Harry’s fingertips are lightly grazing the finger shaped bruises left on his body from last week when Nick had gripped him a bit harder than necessary. His cheeks flush brightly at the memory and he quickly knocks Harry’s hand so he can shove the material back down. Harry lets him.

“Does he hurt you?” Harry breathes, his eyes wide with worry. It’s almost laughable. Harry is worried about bruises – bruises! – considering the sexual past they’ve shared?

Louis fights the urge to roll his eyes and instead cups Harry’s cheek in his hand, making their eyes meet. “Look, you… you of _all people_ should know that a few bruises on me isn’t anything to worry about. You,” he pauses, blushing and coughing awkwardly before he forces the last few words out. “you know what I’m like in bed, what I _like_ in bed. So you must know that this is… it’s fine. I promise.”

Harry bites his bottom lip harshly, keeping his eyes locked on Louis’ for a long minute. The worry and assessing gaze in Harry’s eyes sends Louis’ body on fire, making him squirm on the spot. Suddenly Louis is underneath Harry, his thighs spread and Harry is kneeling in between his legs with his hands curved over the arm of the sofa above Louis’ head.

Louis is too stunned to speak, heat and arousal hissing through his veins as his eyes flick down to see the muscles of Harry’s stomach tense and relax before he lowers himself down to cage Louis in his arms.

“I never hurt you like that,” Harry murmurs quietly, sliding one hand down to cup Louis’ chin in between his thumb and forefinger so that their eyes are forced to meet.

Louis shakes his head.

“No,” he whispers shakily. “No, Haz, you didn’t. You didn’t have to.” He doesn’t mean to let that last part slip out but once it’s said and he’s seen the realisation sink into Harry’s expression, he also doesn’t regret any part of it. Because, it’s true. Harry never had to sink his nails into Louis’ skin to make their eyes meet. Harry never had to push in deeper just to get Louis’ attention. Harry never had to bruise Louis’ body to remind Louis who he belonged to, because Louis already knew.

With Nick? He’s not so sure.

Harry nods and licks his lips, a flicker of smugness flashing in his eyes when he recognises Louis’ eyes tracking the movement. If he were more composed, he’d tell Harry to fuck off playfully but as it is, he’s in no position to make such statements.

“I’d take care of you, Lou,” Harry whispers quietly, pressing their hips together. Louis stifles a whimper, his hands fisting in the back of Harry’s loose shirt.  “You know I would.”

It’s too hot. It’s too fucking hot. Harry’s body is hot, Louis feels hot, the fireplace next to them is definitely hot and the feel of Harry’s body pressed tightly up against Louis’ is fucking _hot_. A different type of hot.

When Louis doesn’t reply, Harry experimentally moves his hips forward in a slow grind against Louis’ crotch. Louis moans eagerly in response, his chest rising and falling quickly. He’s so tightly wound, months of sexual tension and trust building all piled on top of his chest and sinking into his skin as Harry presses feather light kisses to his skin.

This is how Louis is going to die, he’s sure of it.

“Tell me you don’t want me and I’ll stop, Lou,” Harry mumbles quietly against Louis’ ear, before nipping playfully at the earlobe.

Harry pulls back, leaving inches of space in between their chests as he lets Louis take his time to think. Louis fucking hates him. Louis hates how _nice_ he is. He couldn’t just be an asshole for five minutes so Louis could get over this? But the truth is, Louis hasn’t felt this on fire or alive or light for years. He really hates Harry Styles.

 “I don’t want you,” he whispers against Harry’s neck. He feels Harry’s body deflate in disappointment, in hurt, in something Louis can’t understand and he goes to move away before Louis tugs him in closer with a tight flex of his thighs around Harry’s waist. “…to stop. I don’t want you to stop. Don’t go. Not again.”

Tense moments follow, full with anticipation as Louis lifts his head to look into Harry’s eyes. Harry’s eyes, which are full of mischief and relief as they settle down on Louis’ lips before flicking up to Louis’ eyes again.

Taking the opportunity to be brave for once in his life, Louis slides one hand into the bed of curls on Harry’s head and tugs him closer with another light squeeze of his thighs around Harry’s waist. He grins suddenly when he’s rewarded with a low, husky moan that falls from Harry’s mouth effortlessly. The sound is followed by a quick jerk of his hips to rub up against Louis, who gasps in surprise, his grip on Harry’s hair tightening.

“Please, Harry, please fuck me,” Louis whispers quietly.

Before he can utter another word, Harry’s mouth meets his in a hungry kiss and the couple tug each other closer on reflex, their bodies colliding harder as every remaining inch between them is eliminated until there’s nothing but whispers and breaths between them.

“Clothes,” Harry growls against Louis’ mouth, his teeth digging into Louis’ bottom lip. “Fucking clothes.”

Louis giggles brightly, shoving Harry back with both hands on his chest with the intent to put some distance between them so that he can pull his shirt off. Harry grabs onto both of Louis’ wrists with one of his hands and pins them above Louis’ head before ducking his head down to suck bruises into the column of Louis’ throat.

Louis curses loudly, thrashing slightly against Harry’s body before his back arches perfectly to get more of Harry’s mouth.

“Haz,” Louis mumbles, blushing brighter when he hears the strain in his voice. Two minutes in and his voice is already wrecked. Fantastic. “Haz, was trying to get naked, you fucking caveman…”

Smirking, Harry bites down hard on Louis’ neck before he pulls back to admire his work and finally loosens his grip on Louis’ wrists. Louis brings them down and reaches for the buttons on Harry’s shirt, letting the material fall apart to reveal Harry’s chiselled pecs and abs. A small whine escapes Louis’ mouth, leaning forward to hide his face in Harry’s chest as he litters the pale skin with bites and kisses until he’s rewarded with the sound of Harry’s laboured breathing above him.

A soft hand comes to his cheek, making Louis’ head tilt back to meet the darkness in Harry’s eyes. It sends a swooping feeling down to the pits of his stomach and he smiles brightly, shifting happily.

“Shirt. Off.” Harry murmurs, his voice gruff and affected.

Biting back a grin, Louis does as he’s told before pushing Harry’s shirt down his shoulders and arms before throwing their shirts to the floor. He takes a moment to look over Harry’s body, his cheeks flushing with want. It helps him a little bit when he realises that Harry is looking at him in the exact same way.

“So… are you gonna just stare at me or are you gonna make on your promise, huh?” Louis whispers, gently dragging his fingernails down the middle of Harry’s chest and his stomach until they rest on the waistband of Harry’s jeans.

Harry’s lips curve into a wide grin, his dimples deepening in his cheeks and Louis loses his breath for a second. Louis opens his mouth to say something before Harry is pushing him onto his back again and sliding his hands into the back of Louis’ jeans, kneading his bare bum underneath his clothes and swiftly turning Louis into a squirming mess.

Considering the fact that it’s only been years since he’s had sex with Harry and not years since he’s had sex _at all_ , Louis shouldn’t feel as out of depth as he does but… it’s Harry. He’s never felt in control with Harry.

Biting a trail of marks down Louis’ body, Harry doesn’t stop touching Louis until his lips fall upon the bruises that Nick had left behind. Louis holds his breath as he watches Harry, watches Harry smile sadly and kiss the bruises tenderly before he moves further south to tug Louis’ jeans and underwear off. Louis kind of wants to cry.

Suddenly, his thighs are hooked over Harry’s shoulders and Harry’s plump lips are pressing into the flesh of Louis’ thighs before he feels the wetness of Harry’s tongue against his hole.

Louis gasps loudly and tries to move away but Harry tightens his grip on Louis’ hips, making him go still. He doesn’t use as much pressure as Nick did, he doesn’t need to. He knows that he’s got Louis, regardless.

Harry’s tongue moves expertly over his hole until he’s wet enough for Harry’s finger to slide in alongside his tongue and Louis keens highly at the back of his throat, a hand fisting tighter in Harry’s hair which only serves to egg Harry on, his finger sinking in deeper.

It’s a lot, becomes a lot more _a lot_ when Harry quickly works his way up to four fingers deep inside of Louis until Louis is sweaty and squirming on top of Harry’s fingers, his thighs flexing around Harry’s shoulders, a string of pleas falling from his mouth.

“Please, please, please, Haz, please,” he begs loudly, cheeks a bright red from the exertion of staying still.

It feels odd when Harry takes his mouth and fingers away from his hole, a new wave of heat washing over him. The arousal knocks him harder as he watches Harry crawl over his body, the metal of his cross necklace glinting in the moonlight and dangling in between their bodies. Harry’s biceps and stomach muscles flex as he moves and it makes Louis moan. He’s too far gone to care about how embarrassing that is. He doesn’t have time to care when he’s got Harry’s mouth on his and Harry’s cock rubbing up against his thigh, precum smearing across the skin.

There’s a minute of quiet as Harry rolls on the condom, a shy smile on his lips as his eyes meet Louis’ once he’s done. Louis swallows hard, beyond ready. His hungry eyes track Harry’s hand as he gives himself a few sure strokes before positioning himself at Louis’ entrance and bracing one hand above Louis’ head.

Is it sane to get horny at the sight of Harry’s hand veins? Probably not. But Louis is probably past the point of sanity.

Louis’ eyes close for a second when he feels the blunt head of Harry’s cock against his slick entrance, licking his dry lips before he forces his eyes open to look at Harry with open trust. He winds his arms around Harry’s neck and brings him down for a long kiss that leaves him breathless.

Their lips part with a wet sound and Louis wiggles his hips, subtly reminding Harry of their situation.

“C’mon, Styles. Show me what you’ve got, huh?” He breathes teasingly against Harry’s mouth, his teasing sounds melting quickly into a shaky moan when he feels the thickness of Harry’s cock slide into his heat.

Licking into his mouth, Harry sucks on Louis’ tongue and holds him down with their hands intertwined above Louis’ head whilst also holding Louis in his arms protectively. Louis doesn’t know how he does it but he’s doing it _really well_.

The pace Harry sets is focused, hard and eager to please. His cock sinks in deeper with each thrust and Louis can’t keep himself quiet, a string of breathy moans and shaky curses falling from his mouth with each movement of Harry’s hips.

He’d almost forgotten how good Harry was at this. Almost.

When Louis is edging close to his orgasm, he hiccups out a gasp and digs the heel of his foot into the dip of Harry’s back. It’s his tell-tale sign of an upcoming orgasm and even with years separating them, Harry isn’t stupid and he knows what it means.

Releasing Louis’ hands, he grabs onto Louis’ hips and lifts him slightly off the bed beneath them so that he can get deeper, deep enough to slam against Louis’ spot. He keeps a constant pressure on Louis’ spot until he’s crying out, spilling in between their stomachs with a shaky gasp of Harry’s name. With a rough tug of his hair and a harsh drag of Louis’ fingernails down the middle of his back, Harry comes into the condom with a low growl only minutes later.

They clutch onto each other, sweat molding their bodies together and faces pressed into necks, legs tangled together, taking laboured breaths to calm down.

When Harry finally raises his head, he gently nudges Louis’ cheek with his nose and lights up when Louis, too, lifts his face to meet his eyes.

“So… how did I do?” he whispers, kissing Louis gently before bumping their noses together and finally resting his forehead on top of Louis.

Louis laughs breathily, biting his bottom lip. His fingers trail up and down the expanse of Harry’s toned back, well aware of the bumps and scratches he must’ve left behind. Not that he’s proud of his possessive streak. Definitely not.

“You did good, Styles. Like always.”

Harry lights up like a fucking Christmas tree.

“Always.” He grins and Louis rolls his eyes, clearing his throat awkwardly.

While Harry takes off the condom and cleans them both up, it’s silent. Peaceful silence that Louis doesn’t want to break but he has to.

“I’m not leaving Nick, you know?”

Harry pauses. “I know. But you’re not leaving me either, are you?”

“No.”

//

After a long day in the art galleries, showing people around their newest additions and encouraging people to buy their older pieces, Louis needs to crawl into bed and drink a cup of tea and just pass out. Pronto.

When Louis puts the key in the front door and twists it to the right to unlock it, the last thing he expects to find lounging in his favourite armchair in the living room of the flat that he shares with his current boyfriend, is his ex-boyfriend wearing nothing but a pair of boxers and his cross necklace hanging over his chest, a lit cigarette posed in between his fingers.

However, it’s also the first thing that he hopes for.

He’s been fucking his ex-boyfriend behind his current boyfriend’s back for a solid month and if that doesn’t make Louis a bad person, then hoping that Harry will show up in the flat he shares with Nick is certainly the icing on the top of the motherfucking cake.

“Haz?” Louis asks quietly, moving into the living room and sinking down on the ottoman in front of Harry with a shy smile. “A bit underdressed for a drop by visit, aren’t you?”

Harry looks at Louis slowly, showcasing the faint bruise on his cheek that makes Louis swallow back a sigh. Without hesitation, he gets up from his seat to get a closer look.

“You been giving people trouble again, Hazza?” he murmurs quietly, ghosting his fingertips over Harry’s cheekbone. He ignores Harry’s wince, guessing (correctly) that it doesn’t hurt as bad as Harry is making it out to be. He’s been through worse – they both know that.

Harry shrugs, reaching up to wrap his long fingers around Louis’ delicate wrist. Louis swallows back a gasp at the possessive touch and smiles gently under the attention, letting his fingers span out to cover Harry’s entire cheek, his thumb grazing the corner of Harry’s mouth.

Harry’s grip tightens when Louis tries to pull his hand back, making Louis stumble closer until their knees are knocking together. “Nick didn’t give me much trouble though.”

“What- excuse me?” Louis asks worryingly.

Smiling slowly, Harry shrugs and drops his hand to Louis’ hip, his touch no less possessive. Louis shivers and tells himself that he doesn’t like it.

“He doesn’t know who I am, does he? He just let me in, thought I was someone from your art class or something… Doesn’t he wonder where you go sometimes? Is there an art class?”

Louis flushes bright red in anger, pulling his hand back and hitting Harry hard on his untouched cheek so hard that Harry’s head turns. He doesn’t even take a moment to feel bad about it.

“Fuck. You. Why the hell would I tell him about my ex-boyfriend? The ex-boyfriend that broke my heart but continues to fuck me when he feels like it? Are you fucking _insane_?!” Louis laughs, his sound drowning out into a loud whimper when he feels Harry’s strong hands sliding in between his thighs and travelling up higher.

Harry nods slowly, his hands groping Louis’ thick thighs over the material of his jeans. “I get it. Can’t tell your boyfriend that you’re in love with someone else, can you?”

Biting his lip, Louis shakes his head obediently. To change the subject, he opens his mouth. “Why are you so… underdressed? Just. Please tell me you haven’t been drinking.”

Harry lifts the hem of Louis’ shirt up with his nose, pressing sweet kisses to the base of Louis’ tummy, making Louis whine highly in his throat.

“No drinking, I told you I’d stop, remember?” he promises in a gentle whisper against Louis’ skin, nipping lightly before he pulls his mouth back and looks up at Louis from under his eyelashes. “Why are you so overdressed, pup?” Harry asks quietly, his fingers working to slowly unzip Louis’ jeans.

Feeling his body arch into the touch and his skin overheat at the mere suggestion of what Harry wants to do to him makes Louis shake his head and hold onto his ex-boyfriend’s shoulders. The mention of Harry’s old nickname for Louis back in their honeymoon phase sends him past the line of morality and consciousness as he yanks his jeans down his thighs.

Louis quickly undresses, throwing his clothes in a pile on the floor where Harry’s have gathered. It’s only when he’s about to get rid of his underwear that he realises that he’s wearing a red lace thong and his cheeks go bright red in embarrassment. Harry doesn’t know about this new Thing and he’s certainly never pulled Louis’ jeans down to find a g string digging into his partner’s hips.

It’s silent for an immeasurable amount of time - tense on Louis’ part and a mixture of shock and awe on Harry’s. Finally, Harry speaks up, his voice rough and raw with arousal – the perfect combination that sends shivers down Louis’ spine.

“You’re wearing women’s-“ he starts before Louis cuts him off.

“Clothes don’t have gender. They’re just underwear. Okay?”

Harry smiles gently, pressing a sweet kiss to Louis’ hip and slowly pushing the thin fabric down Louis’ thighs until they’re a pool of material at his feet.

“I adore you.”

Louis blushes and makes a high, surprised sound when Harry picks him up and sits him down in his lap. Louis wastes no time in wrapping his thighs tight around Harry’s waist, trying to get as close to Harry as he can.

“You’re gonna ride me, darling, aren’t you?” Harry mumbles into Louis’ neck as he pats Louis’ bottom lip with two of his fingers and Louis knows instantly what he has to do. The boy opens his mouth and sucks the two digits into his mouth until Harry decides it’s enough, pulling his hand back and replacing it with his own mouth against Louis’.

Harry licks into Louis’ mouth as he trails his fingertips down to Louis’ untouched hole, rubbing the wet digits over the rim before sliding the fingers in one by one. Louis gasps and holds tightly onto Harry’s hair as he pushes back into Harry’s touch, his thighs tensing as he grinds down onto his ex-boyfriend with acute eagerness. Harry’s mouth trails kisses and bruises up and down the length of Louis’ neck, pulling back with a wet sound when he’s four fingers deep and Louis is writhing without shame in Harry’s lap.

Cursing loudly, Harry pulls his fingers out and delivers a few perfectly-aimed slaps to Louis’ arse, making the horny boy in his lap whine loudly and gasp out shaky moans.

“You’re gonna ride me.” Harry says again, except this time they both know it’s no longer a suggestion or a request, but a fact.

Louis nods, bracing his shaking hands on Harry’s chest, his left fingers curling to grip onto Harry’s neck as a way of comforting himself before he positions himself above the head of Harry’s cock.

Just before Louis is about to sink down, his hungry body shaking with anticipation, Harry takes ahold of Louis’ chin in between his thumb and forefinger so that their eyes meet.

“I love you. Always gonna love you. Only want you, pup, always you.” Harry whispers fiercely and Louis moans in response, his emotions spiking off the charts as he lets himself drop and take Harry’s thick cock with ease.

“Ha-H…” Louis whimpers loudly, kissing Harry hard and letting Harry’s greedy hands tug and pull at his body so that there’s barely an inch left in between their bodies.

“I’ve got you, never leaving you…” Harry moans, slapping Louis’ arse. “C’mon, show me what you can do, huh?”

Louis nods, starting to ride Harry at a slow pace until he feels comfortable enough before he begins to bounce on Harry’s cock harder. His nails leave harsh, thick lines of red across Harry’s broad chest as he fucks himself down on Harry’s cock.

“Love this, don’t ya?” Harry moans, his fingers digging imprints into the sides of Louis’ hips as he watches Louis in absolute awe.

Louis nods again, small whimpers escaping his lips, feeling himself getting closer and closer to an orgasm as he moves. He slides a hand into Harry’s hair and tugs roughly, making the man below him gasp out and thrust up into his body with a guttural groan.

“S-say it.” Louis begs, pressing their lips together wetly. “Just one more time.”

Louis moves faster as he speaks with laboured breaths and hisses painfully when he feels Harry come inside him, his tired thighs continuing to burn as he moves and rides Harry through it.

“I love you.”

The words send Louis spiralling, shooting hard in between their bodies and his body slumping with exhaustion, his face pressing into the damp skin of Harry’s chest. The pair pant and shiver, holding onto each other tightly as they come down from the insane high.

An hour later, when they’re both dressed and Louis has helped Harry cover up the bruises on his face with foundation for his job interview later, Harry is leaving. He stops at the doorway and bends down to press a sweet, gentle kiss to Louis’ lips.

“I’m a shit ex-boyfriend, aren’t I? Ex-boyfriend’s don’t usually… do this, do they? They leave their exes alone and…”

Louis presses a finger to Harry’s lips to shut him up, smiling sheepishly. “They don’t, but I’m glad you were here to come home to. And if it helps, you weren’t that good of a boyfriend, either. Mr. Bottling Up Emotions And Feelings Is Fun.” Louis teases and softens slightly when he sees the slow smile on Harry’s face.

“Maybe we were meant to do everything backwards.”

Louis rolls his eyes and pats Harry’s chest. “Go home, Haz.”

Harry does but not before he sneaks another quick kiss to Louis’ mouth, which leaves Louis smiling for the rest of the night. 

 

** 2014 **

The bar is busy and stifling, the lights making the material of Louis’ thin tee shirt stick to his sweaty skin and he feels like he constantly has hands moving over his skin as he moves in between his other colleagues, passing drinks over the counter to the drunk public.

It’s a Saturday night so really, Louis shouldn’t be surprised about how busy is and yet he still catches himself wishing he had called in sick or something so that he could have stayed in his and Harry’s stupid, small, ugly flat to cuddle and watch crap telly with a bottle of wine in between his hands. Thankfully, Lily and Blake are great colleagues who constantly make stupid quips against his ear to cheer him up or Blake will slap his arse when he thinks Louis is zoning out too much to focus on the task at hand.

He won’t lie to himself though. He misses Harry. He hasn’t seen him all day, with Harry being busy at his apprenticeship with the publishing company around the corner from their flat and Louis sleeping all day to catch up on the sleep he missed from working the previous night. So, it’s fair to say that Louis is pining over his boyfriend.

Blake nudges him with his hip and makes Louis stumble out of his daydreaming. “Hey, bitch, get me seven shots of tequila.”

Louis rolls his eyes and pulls out the glasses. “Bite me.”

Lily pops her head around the door of the staff room, grinning madly (which means that she’s definitely been taking free drinks from the punters again). “Can I join?”

Louis laughs and puts the full shot glasses onto a tray, handing them to Blake. “In your dreams, babe. In your brother’s dreams, too, I bet.”

“Only if Harry joins too!” She shoots back with a loud laugh before her head disappears again.

Louis laughs, shaking his head and turns back around only to find Blake looking at him with a cocky smirk on his lips.

“What?”

“You just get that I’m-thinking-about-my-hot-boyfriend-again look off your damned face and get back to work, alright?” Blake makes exaggerated gagging noises and slaps Louis’ arse once more before he saunters away.

Louis blushes and gets back to work.

It’s nearing 2am when he finally gets a chance to leave the club and catches a glimpse of his curly haired boyfriend leaning against the wall outside the club, ready meet him after his shift. He looks perfect as always, his hands stuffed deep into the pockets of his leather jacket and his head high to look for Louis, which gives the moon the perfect opportunity to cast her shadows across the edges of his sharp jawline. Taking a deep breath, Louis steps closer to where his boyfriend stands, eager to press up close to Harry after hours of slaving behind a bar for annoying drunks.

The blue eyed man flashes a bright, happy smile to his boyfriend when they’re in closer proximity and feels his breath catch when Harry finally meets his eyes, raising his hand as if he needs to grab more of Louis’ attention. The shorter man catches himself from giggling in response and winks at his boyfriend.

“Well, hi gorgeous,” Harry finally murmurs against the shell of Louis’ ear when Louis is close enough for him to wind his arms around Louis’ petite waist.

“Mm, missed you, Mr. Handsome” Louis whispers against Harry’s mouth.

Harry chuckles lowly, breaking from the embrace to press sweet kisses down Louis’ warm neck. “Did you have fun at work?”

“Was good… Niall was funny, Noah was drunk and Blake wouldn’t leave my arse alone.”

Harry stiffens slightly. “Your arse?”

“Hm? Yeah?” Louis nods, entwining their fingers together. “Are you ready to go home? I really fancy a nice bath. You know, with candles and everything?”

They walk in silence, Louis’ thumb rubbing patterns into the palm of Harry’s hand before Harry breaks the silence again. “He’s pretty, right?”

Louis frowns, confused. “Who?”

“Don’t act dumb, Louis. Just… if you wanna leave me, that’s fine, I just want-“

Louis stops in the middle of the parking lot and drops Harry’s hand as if he’s been burned. “Are you fucking kidding me? I’m not leaving, you idiot!” He presses his hands to his face and forcefully makes him take in and let out several breaths before he looks up at his boyfriend with exhausted eyes. “Baby, please… what is this about, huh? You’re acting insane.”

“Insane?!” Harry snaps.

Louis rolls his eyes. “You think I want to shag Blake. My married co-worker. Because he slapped my arse twice in a six hour shift.”

“You want to l-“Harry drives on before Louis cuts him off with a hand to his mouth.

“I’m not fucking leaving, you cunt!”

Harry shoves his hand away.

“Why not? I’m sure you can find someone else in no time! Someone who isn’t as fucked or someone who earns more money or someone who…” Harry’s voice breaks as his tone raises in volume. “Someone who d-deserves your love?!”

Louis hisses through his teeth, rubbing his hands over his face as he huffs out frustrated breaths. How can someone be this fucking stupid, after the million and one ways that Louis shows just how fucking in love he is with Harry every single day?

The heat of Harry’s body approaches closer again and Louis pushes Harry away with a forceful shove to his chest. Harry stumbles back by surprise and it’s reflected in the way that Harry’s eyes widen in shock.

Good. Twat.

“Fuck you! I love _you_ and I want _you_ and I would rather argue with you every single day the rest of my life than ever consider being with anybody else, alright? Shut your mouth and get that drilled into your thick arse skull!”

Their chests rise up and down in perfect sync, and their eyes are frenzied but unable to move off each other’s’ faces. Louis licks his lips nervously at the same time that Harry rakes a hand through his hair. Louis hates that they can still be so in tune with each other whether they’re in an argument or not. Unconsciously, Harry steps closer to his boyfriend and Louis lets out a quiet whimper when Harry’s tender hands come to cup Louis’ face, bringing their faces close together until their lips are inches apart and their noses are bumping together. Louis closes his eyes, leaning into Harry’s touch and placing his small hands on Harry’s broad chest.

“I love you, Louis,” he whispers lowly, his voice shaking slightly as he wraps his strong arms around Louis’ body. Louis shivers in response, curling in closer.

“Stop doubting how much I love you and what I’d do for you,” Louis mumbles quietly.

Harry gently presses their lips together, pulling Louis tight against his chest and Louis instantly feels warm and protected and safe in his boyfriend’s arms. There’s no place he’d rather be.

“You’re such a twat sometimes” he mumbles, batting his fists loosely against Harry’s chest.

Harry sighs, smiling sadly, moving to rest his cheek on top of Louis’ head. “But you love me.”

Louis does. He loves Harry and love is hard but Harry is worth it. Out of everything that Louis is naïve to in this stupid, confusing mess of a world, he knows that.

//

** 2021 **

“You’re fucking him, aren’t you?” Nick says point blank as soon as Louis shuts the door behind him. Louis curses loudly at the interruption to his thoughts, nearly dropping his keys from his hands but quickly grabbing them at the last minute.

Louis looks up quickly, flushing when he catches sight of Nick sprawled across the sofa, a cigarette dangling from between his fingers. Louis clears his throat and smiles tightly at his boyfriend.

“What… what are you talking about, babe? Are you writing your novel again?” Louis asks nonchalantly, moving closer into the room. He bends down to take the cigarette from Nick’s hand and takes a drag, ignoring the passive gaze Nick has on his face. He pauses, halfway through the drag and slowly lets out the cloud of smoke while his eyes settle on a group of black and white photographs on the table in between the pair.

Scattered across the table are photographs of him. Him and Harry. Harry kissing him goodbye in the doorway, him and Harry dancing together in a club, Harry giving him a flower in the park and Louis pulling at Harry’s hair in the backseat of Harry’s car. Louis’ blood runs cold and his breath catches in his throat. There’s nothing he can say to make this any better. What excuse can he provide to explain the fact that he’s been openly touching his ex-boyfriend behind his current boyfriend’s back?

“I haven’t been writing for weeks, but you would’ve noticed that if you’d been at home with me instead of out there fucking _him_.” Nick accuses.

“It isn’t-,” Louis protests.

Nick snorts, rolling his eyes and setting down his empty shot glass onto the table. “Do you love him? Is that why you went behind my back to fuck someone else?”

“Nicky, I love _you_!” Louis insists shakily, walking closer to Nick and reaching his hand out for Nick’s forearm. Nick is quicker, grabbing a tight hold of Louis’ hair and shoving him down to his knees. Louis goes down with a strangled cry, tears springing to his eyes as he falls to his knees clumsily.

Louis swallows hard, peeking up at Nick from beneath his eyelashes as he focuses on breathing out slowly. Nick looks mad, his lips thinned and his eyes stormy and silent.

“You’re a slut, Louis. Why would I want a slut to love me? You love cock more than you love your own boyfriend, Louis. Isn’t that right?”

Before Louis can shake his head, Nick twists his hand in Louis’ hair, making him whimper as he bends underneath the harsh grip. Nick moves closer to the edge of the sofa, dropping his lips to Louis’ ear.

“Fucking answer me.”

Louis nods, choking out another whimper. “Y-yes. He fucks me.”

Nick twists his hand again. “And?”

“I l-love him.”

Nick nods silently. Louis’ eyes slip shut as he lets tears fall down his cheeks. The relief from finally saying it out loud lets Louis relax in Nick’s grip but it only makes the swift slap to his face burn harder. It isn’t anything new to their arguments (if this can even be called an argument) but Louis cries out nevertheless.

Louis stumbles away and out of Nick’s grip, climbing to his feet and grabbing his keys again. He rubs his hand over his flaming red cheek, swallowing hard as he finds his feet. Nick steps forward to close the distance between them but Louis jerks, stumbling backwards slightly.

“Don’t fucking touch me! I’m d-done with you doing that!”

Scoffing, Nick stands up and pushes the table out of his way to crowd Louis up against the wall. A spike of fear and adrenaline shoots up his spine as he tenses up against Nick’s heated body.

“That’s fucking ironic. The slut begging not to be touched.” Nick hisses against Louis’ neck, the foul stench of scotch filling Louis’ nostrils. He whimpers loudly, pushing Nick away from him. Luckily, Nick is steaming and easy to move away from him.

Moving his shaking hands down his front, Louis smooths his jeans down his thighs. When he looks up, he catches the end of Nick’s fist to his jaw. Louis crumbles to the floor with a gasp, his jaw pulsing with hurt. He gasps in quick breaths, his hand reaching up to cradle his jaw as more tears fall.

“Fuck! L-Louis, baby, I’m- I d-don’t know what got into me, I-,” Nick’s worried voice quickly rushes over Louis’ ears and he flinches when the sight of Nick’s hands comes into view again.

Louis slaps Nick’s hands away from him, crawling to his knees and grabbing onto the wall to hoist himself up. He ignores Nick’s slurred rambling as he grabs onto his jacket and runs out the door, slamming it hard behind him.

Louis locks the door behind him, his hands shaking as he quickly paces to his car and slams the door shut behind him, pulling out of their driveway with a screech of the tires.

The sea is calming, the waves crashing against the lower part of the cliffs and the blue and green colours mixing together to form a new colour that makes Louis’ heart aches and his eyes burn. Louis can’t quite remember the last time that he had come up here but it feels like he’s never left, even though he’s pretty sure that he hasn’t been here since Harry had dumped him two years ago.

He’s left his phone in his car and his jacket hanging off the side of a tree which leaves him shivering and alone in the rain as his legs dangle off the cliff edge, his eyes locked on the water down below.

Louis shifts closer to the edge before he gasps when a strong hand grabs onto his arm and pulls him back from the edge. He cries out loudly and tries to struggle against the firm grip that the stranger has on him.

“Louis!”

Opening his eyes and blinking through the rain, Louis’ mouth drops open when he recognises the person standing in front of him. He swallows back a whimper as his eyes travel over the wet brown hair curling over Harry’s forehead, his lips dripping with raindrops and chest rising and falling swiftly. Louis’ disbelieving eyes stare up at Harry’s tense expression, his breath coming out shakily.

“What are you-,” Louis opens his mouth before he quickly shuts himself up when he sees the torment in Harry’s eyes.

Harry sighs and loosens his grip, sliding his hands down to curl around Louis’ waist and guides Louis to a new car, adjacent to his own. Louis frowns gently to himself as Harry unlocks the car and opens the door for him.

Harry bought himself a new car in the last week? Louis lets himself be melancholic about the fact that they haven’t been able to touch each other in this new car until memories of the invasive photographs that Nick had taken of them in Harry’s previous car flood back into his mind and he blanches, trying to think about anything else.

He blinks himself away from his thought as he accepts the jumper from Harry, pulling it over his head and wrapping his arms around his middle.

Except he can’t stop himself from speaking up about the new commodity. “New car?” he asks quietly.

Harry nods and smiles tightly. He waits until Louis has buckled himself up before he turns in his seat to look backwards at the road as he reverses backwards. Harry isn’t saying anything and Louis wonders if he’s thinking about the same thing that he is, the same thing that he can’t keep his mind off of – that any trace of Louis, of their first time, their favourite date, Louis’ mother’s wedding is now gone, rotting away in the remnants of Harry’s old car.

He really hopes that Harry isn’t wondering about what he was doing dangling off the end of a cliff in mid-November.

In order to break the silence, Louis smiles tightly and crosses his ankles together. “You… you didn’t have to come, you know? I was… just thinking,” he whispers quietly, trying to ignore how strained his voice sounds.

Harry snorts, tightening his grip on the wheel and evidently trying to remain calm as he turns onto the main road, towards his house. “What, you can’t just let me rescue you for once?”

Louis frowns. “I don’t need to be rescued.”

“I do.”

The honesty in Harry’s voice and the slight drop in Harry’s shoulders makes Louis’ heart sink in his chest. “What… what do you mean?”

Harry sighs and shakes his head, smiling tightly at him. “Just… we can talk when we get back to mine. Don’t argue, just… Let me take care of you, okay? Nap. It’s a long way back. You went out further than you usually do.”

Louis nods, too tired to argue with him. “Okay.”

When Louis wakes up, he’s cradled in Harry’s arms while Harry’s long fingers work through his hair and the television buzzes lightly in the background. The fireplace is ablaze, the light from the fire casting shadows across the soft rug the couple are laid upon. It’s cozy and Louis feels content, even if he’s not entirely sure of how he got there.

Louis blushes brightly when he realises his fingers are hooked tightly around Harry’s cross necklace. He drops it from his grasp and looks up at Harry quietly, licking his dry lips.

“Haz?”

Harry blinks away from the television and smiles gently at the boy in his lap. “Hey, honey…”

Louis clears his throat, shifting in Harry’s lap. He breathes out shakily, tucking his hair behind his ears as he moves to sit next to Harry rather than on top of him and starts looking for his shoes. “I need… you need to stop contacting me. Nick gets mad.”

Harry’s expression darkens, holding onto Louis’ waist to make him stay still as he raises his hand again to cup Louis’ jaw. His breath comes out choppy when he notices how Louis flinches at the unthreatening movement.

“Looks like he already got mad.” Harry murmurs carefully, watching Louis’ face intently for his reactions. “So mad that he bruises you like you’ve been in a fucking car crash?”

Louis shakes his head, gently pushing Harry’s hand away. “Stop… it’s- it’s not that bad, alright?”

“No, you need to leave him.” The tone of Harry’s voice suggests that it isn’t a suggestion, and rather an order.

Louis scoffs. “What, and be with you?! Fuck you. You hurt me just as bad so fuck you.”

“I never hit you!”

“You didn’t have to!” Louis snaps.

Harry breathes out shakily, rubbing his hands over his face. “I love you, okay? I’m fucking- I’m _in love_ with you. What do you think we’ve been doing for months?!”

Louis’ eyes widen and he shakes his head. “No. Y-you d-don’t!” Louis replies shakily, even though his voice drips with uncertainty. He moves away but Harry tugs him closer.

“I’ve been in love with you forever. I’m bad at showing it and I’m sorry. But I can’t- I can’t live without you. I don’t want to! Today when you posted on your fucking snapchat story that you were at those cliffs again, I… I nearly had a fucking heart attack. I went as fast as I could because I can’t- I won’t live without you. That asshole doesn’t deserve you,” Harry rambles out desperately, holding onto Louis’ hands. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you and letting you go was the worst mistake of my entire life.”

Louis choked out a whimper, holding onto Harry’s curls in his hands. “Harry Styles, don’t… Don’t you dare leave me again. Do you understand?”

Harry nods, desperately. “Do you… are you considering…”

Louis laughs and cuts Harry off quickly by crashing their lips together before he pulls off with a wince. “Sorry…”

He smiles shyly at Harry and moves to lay back down on the rug, feeling content to just lay next down to his boyfriend. His boyfriend. The red rug tickles the back of Louis’ neck as he sprawls back out across the floor, his eyes closing and his fingers wrapped tightly around Harry’s hand. He feels warm and safe and light and grounded, all at the same time. He can’t breathe.

“Stop watching me,” he murmurs quietly into the air. He doesn’t need to open his eyes to know that he’s right and that Harry is undoubtedly watching him. Louis doesn’t need to be sober with open wide eyes to know that Harry can touch him without using his hands.

“No.”

Louis blushes and laughs softly to himself, mind fuzzy and heavy with bliss. He doesn’t even register Harry pulling Louis into his lap. Their bodies gravitate towards each other without any prompting and their gazes lock as Harry pulls Louis up into a sitting position.

“You’re going to leave me, aren’t you?” Harry asks gently, his calloused fingers cradling Louis’ face and holding him tenderly.

Louis blinks once, twice before he lets a slow, sad smile slide across his face. He raises one hand to curl around the back of Harry’s neck and he shakes his head.

“When have I ever left you, Haz? Name one time.”

Harry can’t.

“We’re always gonna end up back together, aren’t we?” Louis whispers.

“No getting rid of me, honey.” Harry drawls out, his lips curling up.

Louis bites his lip, sitting up and gently removing Harry’s hand from his face. “Why did you leave me in the first place?”

Harry’s face darkens at the question, pressing his lips together in a thin line but he doesn’t move from his position next to Louis on the floor. “Why is this relevant?”

Reaching for Harry’s hoodie, Louis tugs it over his body and slides his hands into Harry’s, swiping his thumbs over Harry’s hands in a soothing motion. Harry eventually relaxes but Louis can still tell that Harry is reluctant to answer the question.

“Because…” he murmurs, squeezing Harry’s hands. “I think that if we… if we’re really going to go back into this, then I need to know why it went wrong in the first place. I don’t want either of us to be making the same mistakes that we’ve already made, alright?”

Harry nods slowly. “My father told me to.”

Louis frowns, his head jerking back in surprise as he looks at Harry in confusion. “Excuse me?”

“He… he thought you were stopping me from reaching my potential, that it was y-you that was pushing me away from music and… he thought you were a bad… influence. He was d-dying, Louis. I was fucking lost and I didn’t know what to do.” Harry finishes lamely, looking at Louis with nervousness in his eyes.

Louis laughs. Really loudly. It’s a sound that seems far away, as if Louis didn’t even make it at all. That’s where Louis needs to be. Far away. He stands up abruptly, pulling his jeans and shoes on before grabbing his keys and heading straight towards the door, anger fuelling each and every one of his steps as he moves further and further away from the man he thought he loved.

Harry grabs Louis’ wrist but instead of stopping, Louis uses it to turn and shove Harry far away from him. “You cowardly piece of shit! You dumped me because your daddy didn’t like me?!” He screams angrily.

“I’m in love with you! That’s why I couldn’t leave you alone, Louis! I needed- baby, I need you. I’m sorry. What I did was wrong and stupid and cruel and I was a fucking kid! We were kids! Lou, c’mon, you can’t…” Harry stumbles over his words, following Louis to the door.

Louis stops, turning around to face Harry again. He wets his dry lips and meets Harry’s tormented gaze, wrapping his arms around himself. “If he hadn’t died… would you have stayed with me?”

“Yes.”

Louis laughs. “Really?”

Harry’s jaw tightens as he nods. “Really, Louis. I’ve never stopped loving you. I was just… just scared, okay? I didn’t want to let him down a-again and he was _dying_ , Louis. I wanted, fuck,” he pauses to laugh self-deprecatingly at himself and bites his lip. “I wanted to just tell him I did it. But he made sure he was in the room when I did it, you remember that?” Louis does. He remembers finding it weird for Harry to invite Louis down to the hospital because he usually liked his visiting hours with his father all to himself, especially when it was clear he had very little time left. He remembers Harry stumbling over his words and still trying to reach for him when Louis fled from the room.

Louis bends his head to look down at Harry’s hands before he raises his gaze to Harry’s face again. He steps forward and cups Harry’s face in his hands, smiling shyly when Harry’s eyes widen before his expression relaxes and leans into the touch eagerly.

“If you’re lying to me, Styles, I will cut off your balls and feed your cock to the dog down the street. Do you understand me?” Louis murmurs slowly, curving his fingers underneath Harry’s chin to lift his face so that their eyes are on level with one another.

Harry nods eagerly and makes no move to bring them closer, letting Louis be in control for now. It’s odd.

“I promise. I want you. Please.” Harry whispers quietly, hesitating before raising a hand to cup Louis’ jaw with a sigh. “I was a dumb, scared kid about to lose a parent, Lou… Please forgive me.”

Louis closes his eyes and nods, leaning in to brush their lips together again. “You’re so incredibly lucky that I love you, Haz,” he mumbles against the pillow of Harry’s lips, stepping closer into Harry’s waiting arms.

Harry nods eagerly. “So bloody lucky,” he agrees without hesitation.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
